All I Want is a Proper Cup of Coffee
by marginaliana
Summary: Three times Ianto didn't get to have his coffee and one time he did.


Title: All I Want is a Proper Cup of Coffee

1.

Ianto had just finished steaming the milk when the space ship came crashing through the water tower.

He dropped the mug and ducked down below the countertop, already calculating whether going for his gun on the other side of the kitchen would leave him too exposed. A hatch in the side of the ship opened and something crawled out. Two somethings, Ianto amended mentally, each covered in greasy blue feathers.

"Krzaaaa!" said one of the somethings. "Irakht kurfee ptui!"

The other replied with a noise Ianto thought sounded like sandpaper on a wet piece of pineapple. Ianto had his hands over his ears before he realized what he was doing. As he started to bring them down, Jack came out of his office and gave the aliens a huge smile. Then he launched into an equally incomprehensible and horrific speech, so Ianto gave up and put his hands back over his ears again.

A few minutes later and the aliens climbed back into their ship, gesturing apologetically at the hole in the Torchwood ceiling and making repulsive noises of pleasure as they sipped two hot cups of freshly brewed coffee.

Ianto rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That was all they wanted?" he asked Jack.

"They're from Perisia X," said Jack, shrugging. "The coffee is _really_ terrible there."

2.

"Ianto, don't do anything stupid," came Jack's voice in his headset.

"Hurry up and get down here," Ianto whispered back, "and I won't have to." He took a step closer to the counter, his hands still held up in a gesture of peace.

"Look, maybe I can help," he said. The wild-eyed man with the gun turned his attention from the barista, giving Ianto a horrible grimace from underneath his large top hat.

"You don't understand," he said desperately. "I need it. I've gone without for three whole days!"

"Okay," said Ianto soothingly, "okay. Whatever it is, we can get it for you." The man was beginning to shake, the barrel of the antique pistol quivering slightly in the air. "You just have to tell me," Ianto continued, "what it is you need."

"What I need? Can't you smell it?"

"Er…" All Ianto could smell was coffee.

"Can't you almost taste it on your tongue?" the man continued. The gun shook more wildly. "The dark, rich scent of it? I… I need…"

Jack burst through the door, Owen hot on his heels. Just then, the gunman exploded.

"Eugh!" said Ianto, finding himself covered in yellow slime. "What the hell?"

"Oh," said Jack, "It was a Turpindo. I thought it might be. If they don't get coffee every 72 hours or so, well…" he indicated the mess surrounding them.

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Of course." The barista, looking shell-shocked, handed him a paper napkin. Ianto wiped his face. "You know what?" he said. "I am never going into a Starbucks _ever again_."

3.

"Easy, Ianto," Jack murmured in his ear. Ianto growled and gripped the handle of the coffee machine. He didn't want to turn and see the tightness he knew would be in Jack's face.

"I have never been so insulted in my life, Jack," he said.

"I know. And believe me, I'm just as angry as you are. But they're from UNIT, and unfortunately we kind of need them right now. So summon up some of that famous diplomacy and we'll stick it to them in the budget deliberations this afternoon, okay?"

"We need them like we need a poke in the eye," Ianto muttered, but his shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit. "Fine. Fine."

He turned, professional mask in place, and met Jack's weary eyes.

"That's my boy," said Jack, stroking his hand over Ianto's shoulder. "Should we fortify ourselves with a nice cup of coffee first? I think even the French can wait five minutes."

"As you like, sir," said Ianto, painfully aware of the mass of bureaucrats waiting in the conference room.

Suddenly, Gwen's voice sounded through the hub.

"And the next one of you to pinch my arse will regret it!" This was followed by something Ianto recognized as the sound of someone being hit in the face with a file folder very, very hard. He sighed.

"Come along, sir," he said. "Duty calls."

4.

"Please can I have it?"

"No."

"Pleeeeease?" Jack had his begging face on, and Ianto had to steel himself against it before replying. He pried Jack's fingers from the mug.

"No, sir. Owen said you'll continue to be allergic to coffee for twenty four hours and you cannot pout me into acting against your best interests. _No coffee_."

"Not even if I promise to buy you that new espresso machine you wanted?"

"Not even then."

"Not even if I say I'll shower you with diamonds and rubies and pearls?"

"… No, Jack."

"Not even if I tell you I'll keep you up all night, sucking the residue from your fingers?"

Ianto shivered a little at the thought, pleasantly, then sighed. "Sorry, no. You'd be breaking out in hives during the whole thing and seeping welts _do_ tend to put a damper on my enthusiasm."

"I'll just go make my own, then, if you won't let me have yours," said Jack, sulking. "You can't stop me."

Ianto smirked and raised an eyebrow. He'd _had_ Jack's coffee.

"Oh, fine," said Jack. "Fine. I'll have a cup of tea."

Ianto smiled and took a sip.


End file.
